Full Circle

by Christy

Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program "Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.

Dawn. The beginning of a new day, a day filled with hope and promise. There was a hint of snow in the cold frigid air which was invigorating to the lone cowboy who knelt in front of the headstone that marked the grave of Thomas Jefferson Barkley. A trembling hand touched the letters on the grave, letters that spelled out his name, the years of his birth and death and the words that told the world this man had been strong, powerful and loved. Before he could take in the last few words, the sound of a gun being cocked caught his attention. In one fluid motion, the young man had rolled over, pulling his own weapon and pointing the gun at his potential assailant.

“Freeze, right where you are, Boy,” the dark haired man ordered. Heath froze all right, but not because a gun was pointed at him. Instead he stared into the hazel eyes of his brother, his heart pounding, his mind telling him to get up, and to go to him. Instead he waited till Nick had walked towards him. In the early morning light, it was clear to Heath that Nick had not yet recognized him.

“Who are you? What are doing trespassing on private property and more important, what gives you the right to trample on my father’s grave.” Heath holstered his gun as Nick advanced. He stood slowly, his hands in the air.

“Well now, I reckon I wanted to see his grave, Nick, but iffen you’d like me to replant these flowers, I expect I could do that, specially when Mother or Audra sees what I had to do to their handy work because my big overgrown brother drew a gun on me.” Nick Barkley shook his head. Heath stepped out from the picket fence that surrounded the lone grave.

“I’m seeing ghosts,” Nick Barkley muttered.

“Ain't no ghost, Nick. What are you talking about?” Nick’s eyes finally focused on what he couldn’t believe. A few more steps and he was standing face to face with Heath. Hazel eyes locked on the confused sapphire ones. Nick’s hand squeezed Heath’s shoulder.

“Heath? Boy is that you?” he demanded. “My God. Heath!” Pulling his younger brother in to a bear like hug, Heath found himself choking in response to the hug.

“Nick, let go,” he cried. Nick’s release was instantaneous. He stepped back.

“Heath, where have you been. You look like hell you know. You’re thin, you’re gray and you look like you’re barely standing. You sick?”

“Reckon I am. I’m homesick, Nick. Can ya take me home?”

“Be happy to, Little Brother. Come on, let’s get you back to the house. Your mother is going to be one happy woman.” Heath paused for a minute looking back at the grave before mounting his little Modoc pony. Nick waited.

“Nick, I heard you were hurt too. Are you all right?”

Nick grimaced at the memories of his father’s murder and the bullet that had been taken out of him that dark December morning just about a year ago. It was a miracle he wasn’t laying beside his father, and he knew it.

“I’m getting there,” Nick admitted. “I’ll be better now that you are home.” Nick’s quiet demeanor over Heath’s question was so unlike his usual noisy self that Heath didn’t press. The two men got up on their horses. It was only a half hour ride back to the ranch.

About ten minutes from the main house, Heath had another question for his brother.

“Nick, why were you so surprised to see me? Didn’t you get my letter?”

“Letter? What letter? We never heard anything from you after you wrote that you had enlisted. You don’t know do you?” Nick pulled Coco up short. They were almost home. Heath had to be prepared for the homecoming he was about to receive.

“Don’t know what?” Heath returned halting beside Coco and Nick, his sapphire eyes curious as well as concerned. Nick rolled his eyes in frustration before meeting that inquisitive gaze.

“Heath, we had a telegram from the army back in the spring of 65’. They informed us you had been killed and buried in a mass grave just before the end of the war.” A range of emotions crossed the blond’s face, horror, shock, surprise, pain.

“No!” He cried. “They wouldn’t do that! Nick!”

“You really didn’t know?” Nick had to ask.

“Hell no. Do you think I would really put the folks through that? I sent a letter at the end of the war. Maybe someone destroyed it I don’t know, but I wrote I was all right. I just couldn’t come home. Nick…stuff happened, and I couldn’t…well I had to resolve some of those problems myself. I knew Father would be angry I’d run off, but I never expected not to be able to tell him I loved him and I sure as hell never expected he’d get killed before I could come home.”

“It’s been a bad year,” Nick admitted. “You’ll find Mother changed.”

“Does that mean she won’t come after me with a wooden spoon?” Heath joked. Nick chuckled.

“Well, after she hugs you or slaps you or maybe Audra will beat her to it. Gene’s away at prep school back east, but Audra’s been home since last spring. She’s been busy with the social season.”

“Social season? Audra? Boy Howdy, I have been away too long. And Jarrod? I saw his sign in town. Mighty fancy digs for his office.”

“He’s doing well, and the ranch is flourishing. Father’s foreman, Duke McCall is still helping to run the ranch. We’re doing pretty good, Heath, but I miss Father. I miss him every day.” Heath nodded. Nick could see the unshed tears in his eyes.

“How long have you known Heath?” he wondered suddenly.

“A few weeks.”

“Damn,” Nick swore. Nick’s hand touched Heath’s shoulder. He shook his brother’s hand off uncomfortably with a dare.

“Race you and poor Ole Coco to the house,” He goaded. Nick flew after his brother on the Modoc he was riding. That was Heath, ignoring his feelings as usual, and challenging Nick at the same time. It had been like that since they were boys, Heath determined to keep up with Nick and even Jarrod, and Nick and Jarrod giving him a hard time whenever they could. Still by the age of twelve, Heath had been not only Nick’s favorite brother, but his best friend. Now he was home, home after six years. It was a true miracle to Nick and one he didn’t intend to take for granted, ever.

“Mother? Audra? Jarrod? Where is everyone?” Nick bellowed slamming the door after him as he and Heath entered the foyer of the Barkley Mansion. Heath took off his hat as Silas came to the front door. Silas was about to greet Heath with a surprised welcome home. Heath put his finger to his lips, and then slipped behind the Christmas Tree in the living room just in time to avoid his mother coming out of the kitchen with Audra and Jarrod coming out of the library.

“Nick, what is all the racket this time?” Jarrod asked as his mother spoke.

“Nick, really, must you yell so when you come in. Some day I swear you going to break my ear drums.”

“Never that, Mother. Don’t worry,” Nick chuckled. “Now, all three of you, stand right here in front of the Christmas Tree, you too Silas. I’ve got a surprise for you, and before you ask, I just found this scalawag about an hour ago, so I brought him straight home for one of Audra’s wonderful dinners and Mother’s hugs.” Jarrod started to say something about Audra’s cooking when a blond haired young man, at least four inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than he had been when he left home during the war appeared from the living room. For an eternal minute a deafening silence overcame the group. Heath’s lopsided grin ripped into Victoria’s heart while Jarrod and Audra both appeared stupefied. Finally Jarrod spoke.

“I’ll be damned.”

“Jarrod,” Victoria scolded automatically. In a gliding step, she came to stand in front of the blond son she had mourned for five years. Never a day had gone by that she hadn’t wished he had left under better circumstances that he could have made up with his father before each of them had left the world that they once shared so happily. In front of her the mother barely saw the man. Instead she saw the little boy he had been, the child she had rocked to sleep after a bad nightmare or when he was sick.

“Heath?”

“Yes, Mother. I’m home.” It was his voice, Tom’s voice come back to her. With a cry of joy, the silver haired lady hugged her son to her. Jarrod and Audra followed suit. When the family pulled back, Heath’s blond hair was ruffled and his face flushed from the warmth of the hugs he had been given.

“Boy Howdy, if I’d known I’d be welcome like that, I would have come home a lot sooner.”

“Oh, Heath, why didn’t you?” Audra asked impulsively. Nick cleared his throat at his sister’s question.

“Now, Audra, why don’t you let Heath get used to being home before you go at him. He’s liable to run out that front door again if you don’t hush.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” Audra shot back. “Mother won’t let him.” Heath’s chuckle joined Nick and Jarrod’s.

Victoria put her arm through her son’s.

“Well she is right about that. Heath, you will stay for awhile anyway? We…we missed you so much.” With a crack in her voice, Victoria leaned up to kiss this son who had always tugged at her heart with the intensity of his emotions and his gentle spirit. Heath, biting back some of the confusion he felt forced a smile on to his face.

“Mother, if I do decide to leave, I promise I’ll let you know, and I’ve learned a valuable lesson. You and Father always told us children not to go to bed angry because you didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. I was wrong to leave in anger. I won’t do it again.”

“Thank-you, Heath,” Victoria replied. “I appreciate that. Now, you need a hot bath and some fresh clothes. Heath, you look peaked. When did you eat last? Your clothes are just hanging on you.”

“Oh, oh, Heath, look out,” Jarrod warned. “You’re really home now.”

“Guess so, Brother Jarrod.”

“Upstairs with you,” Victoria ordered. “Your room is just as you left it. Audra, get some clean sheets. Nick, you might have some pants that are too small for you. Silas, I’d like a special meal prepared for Heath tonight. Now, everyone, let’s get to work.”

“After all,” Nick put in. “This is a working ranch.” A round of laughter echoed through the house. Audra and Victoria disappeared up the stairs with a protesting Heath while Jarrod and Nick watched from the bottom of the stairs. As Jarrod went back to the library, Nick followed him. While Jarrod sat at the desk, Nick plopped down on a chair.

“Well, Nick, where’d you find him?” Jarrod’s azure eyes met his brother’s with concern. Nick leaned forward on the desk.

“Believe it or not by Father’s grave. Jarrod, he just found out about Father a few weeks ago.”

“What?” Jarrod cried standing up. “My God.”

“He’s torn up about it, I can tell.”

“I could see that. No wonder his emotions are so raw. I think even Audra realized that. That little speech of his about not leaving tells me he’s grown up quite a bit.”

“He also didn’t know we thought he was dead. Says he sent a letter after the war. Said he had some things to iron out I guess.” Nick waited. He’d had a few hours to get used to Heath’s being alive. He was still just as shocked, but the shock was getting easier to take. Jarrod seemed overwhelmed.

“I wish I knew what happened the day Heath left,” Jarrod mused. “He seems haunted by something.”

“I don’t think it’s just that. Something happened to him in the war. It’s a look I’ve seen on some of my friends, kind of the way I felt when I first came home. He’s got a lot on his mind and he’s just a kid.”

“He’s twenty-years old, Nick. When you were twenty you were helping Father manage the ranch full-time. He’s not a kid anymore. No the little boy we left when we went to join the war is gone.”

“That’s for sure.”

“We can’t push him, Nick. I have so many questions to ask him. Where was he? How come he just found out about Father? Did he know you were hurt. God when I think of how close…”

“Don’t, Jarrod,” Nick told him with his own compassion. “It doesn’t help. He did hear that I was hurt. He was pretty worried about that. He wanted to make sure I was all right.” Jarrod’s sardonic smile lit up the room, taking away some of the tension.

“You two always were inseparable. Sometimes I was almost jealous.”

“You, Jarrod? Well that is a revelation,” Nick teased.

“Impudent boy,” Jarrod teased back.

“Well, I’m glad he’s home. I only hope he doesn’t rush off again. Mother needs him now, more than ever.”

“She needs all of us, but yes I think you are right about Heath. He’s back from the dead, and she’s missed him all these years. It’s a miracle to her.”

“To us all, Brother Nick. I can’t figure he didn’t know the army would report that he was killed. They don’t send telegrams out like that lightly.” Jarrod wondered.

“Jarrod, remember how crazy those last months were. The south was losing soldiers faster than they were enlisting and so was the north. Heath could have been injured, no way to identify him. You never know, Jarrod.”

“No, you never know,” Jarrod agreed. The two brothers were quiet as they contemplated their brother’s unknown past. Between the two of them, they wanted only to protect Heath. Somehow they knew it was a little too late for that.

* * * * * * * *

In the fireplace of the Barkley living room, the orange flames were mesmerizing to Heath. Memories of a happy childhood in this very house culminated in that dreadful day when he found his birth certificate in his father’s desk. Tom Barkley was listed as his father, but his mother was Leah Thomson. She was listed as deceased on the birth certificate. He had confronted his father and mother and left the house that very day, running off in a rage against the parents who loved him. He’d been through hell and back since then. Being home was healing, but it was difficult too. The rustling of his mother’s skirts alerted him to her presence. He stood as she entered the room.

“Am I bothering you, Sweetheart?” Victoria asked in her maternal tone. He smiled. Her dignified strength had always been a comfort to him. Being in the same room with her again was a like a gift to his shattered soul. He took her hands in his, kissing her cheek.

“You could never bother me, Mother.” He let her sit down on the marble table in front of him. She cocked her head a little observing his sapphire eyes watching the fire in rapt attention.

“What are you thinking, Sweetheart?” For a moment, Heath didn’t reply. When his gaze came back to his mother, she almost cried at the vulnerability she saw reflected there.

“Him, Father. I respected him. I loved him. I never got to tell him. Now it’s too late.”

“Oh, Heath, he knew.”

“Did he? I said terrible things that day, things no father should ever have to hear from a no account kid like I was. I was so angry, senselessly angry. Why, why didn’t he tell me. Why did he wait till I found out on my own?” Victoria bit her lip in her own distress. She clasped her hands together, trying to come up with the right words, the words that would explain the past and put Heath at ease at the same time.

“Did you ever think Heath that your father and I didn’t intentionally keep the details of your birth from you? The truth is, we never discussed it. When we got the message from Leah’s friends that you had been born and that Tom was your father, we both went to get you. There was never a doubt that you deserved to be raised with your brothers. Tom and I had had a bad spell that led him to Strawberry. He told me about the affair as soon as he came home. Leah sent a letter telling him she was pregnant. We planned to discuss your future with Leah after you were born, but she died during childbirth. From the minute I held you, you were my son, my little boy. You couldn’t have doubted that, could you?”

“No,” Heath answered. “I never doubted it, not even that day. How could I? Father was away so much when we were little. You know who Nick and I came to with our problems, our hurts and our dreams. You were always there. You were always the best mother.” Tears glistened in Victoria’s eyes at this confession. Love for this golden son threatened to overwhelm her. He brushed the tears from her face. Her hair had been blond when he left, soft and blond like Audra’s. Her beauty hadn’t diminished, but the beautiful white hair would take getting used to. He could guess why her hair had changed. Grief did strange things to people. He spoke softly as he went on.

“You thought I was angry at you too?”

“I didn’t know what to think, Heath. I just didn’t want you to blame your father entirely.”

“I don’t blame anyone now. I’ve learned there’s more important things than how a man comes to be born. It’s not how you get here or even how you leave that matters. It’s the lifetime in between that counts. It’s like Father told me once. Every man leaves his footprint upon the earth when he leaves. Whether that footprint makes that man proud or not is up to him.”

“I remember him telling Jarrod, Nick and Gene that too.”

“I should have come home after the war. I see that now. Mother, I can’t stand knowing that he died thinking I hated him. It’s killing me inside.”

“Wait here, Heath. I’ve got something for you.” She hurried upstairs. Heath looked back into the fire. Tom Barkley looked back at him, the man’s face encouraging, listening, and talking to him as he taught him to rope, or shoot or ride. He’d been an expert marksman when he ran away. It had gotten him into an elite regiment of sharp shooters, a regiment that landed him in Carterson. He wasn’t able to share that with his mother yet. He wondered if he ever would. She was back before she had left, handing him an envelope with his name written on it. The writing was his father’s.

“What? What’s this?” He asked, his heart in his mouth.

“Your father wrote a letter to each of us just weeks before he died. I think he had a premonition. He made a point of spending time with each of us during that time. This was your letter. Heath, you have to understand, not a day went by that we didn’t talk of you, and miss you.”

“But didn’t he think I was dead?”

“Maybe he knew something else we didn’t. I don’t know, Heath. Please read the letter. I think it will help. No matter what you think, this is your home. We love you so much. And if you ever leave again, it’s not going to be in anger. It’s going to be in love.” She kissed him on the cheek. Leaving her son alone, Victoria disappeared up the stairs. Heath opened the letter slowly. His hands trembled a little as he read the letter to himself.

“Dear Heath. I’m not exactly sure where you are. Though the army insists you were killed, I’ve done a fair amount of investigating on my own. I’ve never felt you were dead. Maybe that’s because if I accept that you are dead, I have to accept my responsibility in the fact that you were in the war at all. You were only thirteen. You should have been safe at school with Audra and Gene, not off fighting for your country. That you had the courage to join up and fight like your brothers gives me no end of pride, but it also frightens me when I think of what you must have gone through.

Heath, never worry about the day you left. You never left my heart, Son. We all say things when we are angry, especially when we are young and confused. I never got to tell you the truth about your real mother. Leah Thomson was a true lady. She found me after I had been attacked, robbed and left for dead. I had amnesia. We fell in love. We thought we would get married. When my memory came back, I knew I had to go back to your mother, but Leah and I respected each other enough to keep in touch. When she told me she was carrying my child, I was excited because I knew you had been conceived in love. When I told Victoria, she understood. It was difficult for her, but you know her. Her and Leah are a great deal alike. Perhaps that’s why I fell in love with her. I think Leah would have made a wonderful mother. She would have loved you as much as Victoria. You could have had two mothers, Heath. Instead, the Lord took Leah home and left you with us. Heath, my son, you must always know what a blessing you have been to me and to your mother. You always will be.

Remember, Heath, no matter where you go, no matter what you do, it is your responsibility to see that your life is honest, kind and good. Admit your mistakes and learn from them. Admit your victories and learn from those. Most important of all is to accept that every child of God is born for a very special purpose. Your purpose may have been fulfilled, but I like to think that purpose is still ahead of you. I love you, Son. I always will.”

Heath held back the tears he felt coming. Stoking the fire so that it would go out, he picked up the letter, put it in his pant’s pocket and went upstairs. Seeing a light on under Nick’s door, he knocked on it.

“Come in,” Nick called out. Heath entered the room to find his brother polishing a fine saddle. His eyes widened in appreciation at the hard work and the beauty of the saddle that seemed a little small for Coco.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Big Brother. Seems to me, we’ve got a day ahead of us tomorrow. You told me something about some fences that had blown down at Sky Meadow?”

“I did, Little Brother, I did, but I did have some work to finish tonight.”

“Uh huh. I see.”

“Heath, you been away so long, you don’t see,” Nick scolded gently.

“Oh?”

“I ordered this saddle for Christmas for Audra. When it came I almost sent it back. Too masculine for her. Don’t know what got into me. Won’t fit Coco. Still I kept it. Been polishing it every night.” Heath remained silent.

“Can you answer me a question, Heath?”

“Suppose so. Depends on the question.”

“Why didn’t you come home after the war? And where were you when Father was killed?” Nick stopped polishing, his hands coming to rest on the saddle as he sat in the chair next to the podium he had rested the saddle on. Heath sat heavily on the bed. When they were boys, he and Nick had shared everything, their possessions, their secrets, their hopes for the ranch, their love for the family, everything. Six months later after Nick left for the war, Heath had followed him, but he’d never succeeded in finding his big brother. The war was too big and Lieutenant Barkley had been swallowed up in the masses. There was only one simple way to tell Nick the truth. The little brother took off his shirt. Slowly he turned around. When he turned back, buttoning up the blue chambray shirt, he wasn’t surprised to see Nick’s face was a dark thundercloud.

“Where?” Nick growled. “Who?”

“Carterson prison.”

“My God, Heath,” Nick breathed.

“I see the reputation precedes me. Trust me, the rumors you heard couldn’t touch the truth. It was hell on earth.”

“Heath, you were there?”

“Yeah, for seven months. When I was released I was in no shape to come home. I was in no shape to go anywhere. I spent almost a year in the hospital.”

“Oh, Heath,” Nick sighed. “You were just a kid.”

“Suppose so. Didn’t matter. As Father would say, it was my responsibility since I signed up. Can’t blame no one for it, Nick, certainly not the family. It was war pure and simple, and a man named Bentell who tortured and starved most of us to death.” For a minute Nick saw the anger in his brother that he often felt in himself. Heath hadn’t changed. He was still at war with his gentle soul and the Barkley temper. That had always been the way of it with Heath, but then they had both been like that, all their lives.

“After I got out of the hospital, I went to Mexico. Worked in the mines down there for a few years. Saw a few atrocities there too. When Father was killed I was in New Mexico, working on a ranch. News didn’t reach us down there. I made my way north. Don’t know if I was coming home or what I was doing. Can’t say as I made too many bright decisions since I left home, probably God’s way of telling me I made one huge mistake. I found out about Father from a friend in Los Angeles. Came home.”

“I think you’ve grown up fine, Heath. What you’ve been through has helped to make the man you are. I think Father would be proud of you. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Heath flashed his brother a grin.

“You’re kinda partial ain't ya?” he teased.

“Suppose so,” Nick grunted. He picked up the saddle. Bringing it over to Heath, he placed it on the bed.

“Whatcha doing?”

“It’s yours.”

”What?”

“It’s your Christmas present a little early. Your Modoc needs a decent saddle. That thing you’re using is pathetic.”

“It does the job,” Heath protested. “Nick, I don’t have money for something like this.” Nick laughed outright.

“Heath Barkley, you’re home. This is your home. The ranch, the money, the family, it’s all yours. You know that. You know it’s not about money. What did Father used to say about the empire he built? Remember?” Heath fingered the fine leather. In six years he’d lived a rough and tumble life. He’d forgotten about some of the finer things in life, though his manners were always impeccable, and his kindness to the ladies purely chivalrous.

“He said he built an empire, not for the money, but for the security it would offer his family and future generations. But with that empire came a duty to care for those less fortunate, to help whoever we could and not take all this for granted, because as quickly as it was built it could be destroyed. He said it was up to a family like ours, determined, strong and courageous to hold the land together. If we stuck together, then nothing, nothing could take away the birthright he gave us.”

“You remembered,” Nick nodded. “Take the saddle Heath. And don’t ever leave again. I need you, Little Brother. I’ve always needed you.” The two young men hugged. Heath realized that with the letter and his brother’s acceptance, it didn’t matter what had happened in the past. The two men he admired most had forgiven him for his abrupt departure years before. He might not have been punished enough for his foolhardiness, but that would work itself out in time. Somehow it would.

“I love you too, Big Brother and I promise I won’t leave you, not ever. I also bet I get up before you do in the morning. This poor ranch looks like it needs a strong hand.”

“A strong hand? Why you little runt,” Nick laughed. “Take your saddle and get outta here. I got a full days work for you tomorrow. You just make sure you’re ready to go bright and early.” Heath’s lopsided grin was a blanket in Nick’s heart. He took the saddle and opened the bedroom door, grinning all the way.

“I can still run circles around you, Nick. You’re getting old you know. I’ll see ya in the morning.” Heath was gone before Nick could sputter a reply. The big brother sat down on his bed, shaking his head. The world had come full circle this Christmas. Last year they had lost his father. For the family Heath too had been lost to the ages. This year, Heath would be with them. He would celebrate the holiday with the family who loved and adored him. Nick was certain Heath’s demons wouldn’t be easily dismissed, but one thing was for sure. His little brother was safe and sound, and Nick would sooner let hell freeze over than ever put Heath in danger again. It would never happen, not this Christmas nor in the years to come. Christmas was going to be a new beginning for the Barkley’s and Heath was the icing on their cake…now and for always.

THE END